Sing Me A Lullaby
by Wolf-Maiden Mitsuki
Summary: One-shot. Six years have passed and life has moved on - but then a child's cry for comfort brings the Goblin King to the world of our favorite Labyrinth-runner again. Implied J/S.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Labyrinth ©1986, nor do I own the lyrics to the song "As the World Falls Down". The song is the brainchild of the wonderful David Bowie.

This is a rewrite of an old creation, previously entitled "Sing Me a Lullaby", that I never ended up finishing. Recently, I dug it up again, thinking I'd have another go and see what came of it this time around.

* * *

**Chapter One**

A Child's Hope

* * *

Outside the two-story window, the wind howled through the trees. Rain pelted the window with enough force to make it rattle. The hour was late, dawn still several hours away. The darkness was broken only by the flashes of lightening that streaked through the sky. The insistent rainfall was punctuated by loud crashes and rumbles of thunder.

Toby Williams, lone occupant of the room, lay huddled underneath the covers of his Ninja Turtles bedspread. Clutched closed to his chest was his tattered stuffed bear, Lancelot, a gift from his half-sister Sarah long ago. Had he known his parents would have come and eased his fears, he might've called out to them. But the little boy, frightened as he was, could only whimper and shake under the protective watch of the four amphibian heroes.

Oh, how he wished with all his heart that all thunderstorms would go away!

They had frightened him since he was a toddler, or so his parents and his sister always told him. Every time there was a storm, they'd always said, he would cry and whine until someone picked him up and sang to him.

Why a song, and not a story or a blanket, or even a hug and kiss? Well, that was something no one knew – not even Toby.

A sharp clash of thunder overhead and Toby shouted with fear, but no one heard him. The sound of his cry was drowned out by the thunder itself. No one ever heard him scream it seemed, except his sister, Sarah, when she'd been home. But now she was gone to college, far away in New York. She couldn't hear him, and so no one came. Clutching Lancelot all the harder, Toby began to cry.

If only there was someone who cared enough to come and sing.

Even if he could've cried loud enough for his parents to hear him, they wouldn't sing. They never sang to him. They said that he was getting too old to be so frightened of thunderstorms. They said it was time for him to grow up and learn to face his fears instead of trying to wish them away.

He was nearly seven, they would say, a boy too old to be sung to like a toddler. But the only thing Toby felt brave enough to face was the thought that his parents didn't love him enough to sing. Sarah would've sung to him, but he never saw her anymore.

"I wish someone would sing to me." The small, blond boy whispered tearfully to his teddy bear. "I wish they would make the storm go away..."

Lancelot, being as scared as Toby was, didn't answer. The storm continued to rage.

And so Toby curled up even more in the stuffy darkness under the covers, sniffling and hoping with a child's hope that someone would hear his wish and come.

* * *

**+0+**

* * *

Deep in the heart of a sentient Labyrinth, in the comfort and clamminess of his palace, the Goblin King stirred a little in a wingback chair pulled close to the glow of a fireplace. Opening mismatched eyes, the monarch came to himself slowly and glanced around the massive room to get his bearings. Something rustled in his lap and glancing down, he saw the spine of the old, dusty tome he'd been browsing through a few moments earlier.

He picked up the book and then laid it aside. Nothing else stirred in the gloom of the bedchamber. The flaxen-haired man frowned, a line pulling his arched brows downward. Had he not heard one of the dirt-eating goblins he was in charge of call out in the darkness?

He waited, staring into the fireplace and listening, but he heard nothing more. The fire crackled, sparks flying mildly around the corners of the ruddy blaze. Leaning into the back of his chair once more, the monarch harrumphed and reached out to retrieve his book. Before his fingers touched the binding, however, the sensation of someone calling out pulled at his consciousness again.

His fingers stopped in midair. The voice he heard was small, wavering. The voice of a child – a small, frightened boy called out. Jareth (for that was the name of this King) listened intently and tried to make out the words. It was difficult at first, as though the voice came from far, far away – almost beyond his ability to discern – but he managed somehow. Slowly, the words formed in his mind.

_"_..._I wish someone would sing to me...I wish they would make the storm go away..."_

The voice was broken with sobs, the tone desperate. But who in the blazes was it?

Puzzled and bit concerned, the Goblin King rose. Forgetting about his book or the late hour, the slender man called forth a bit of magic and manifested a crystal with a flick of the wrist and whispered spell. The crystal looked like glass, gleaming and sparkling in the firelight.

"Show me the one who cries out for a song." The monarch breathed to the crystal. As if by its own volition, the crystal began to spin and glow.

The moments passed, the glow and the spinning increased. The orb of glass and magic lifted from his fingertips an instant later and hovered in front of his face. An image started to appear within the crystal, blurry and out of focus as first. He whispered more spell words and the image began to clear.

He saw a bedroom, a child's bedroom. A bed, covered with patterns of armed turtles and a cityscape came into view. A large bulge in the middle of the bed moved and shuddered, a child sobbed. Then the child came into view, face lit with soft light, as though the crystal itself had slipped beneath the covering of blankets.

Jareth's eyes widened as he beheld the face of the child. It was a boy, fair-haired, with a face red and streaked with tears. The boy was older than Jareth remembered, but one that he nevertheless recognized. Jareth's heart ached as he remembered.

A babe dressed in striped jammies, crying in a crib. A teenage girl, childish and willful, wishing the child away, and then himself – loving the girl, confronting the girl – making a deal with the girl that she might win back the brother she so thoughtlessly wished away.

In the depths of Jareth's heart, bittersweet emotion joined the tender ache. The crystal was dissolved, no longer needed. Without another moment's delay, the Goblin King sank and melted into the form of a great tawny owl, and flew from the window of his bedchamber into the dark night.

The rhythm of his wings beat against the air and took him steadily towards the Barrier between the Underground and the Realm of Mortals. As he flew, a thought crossed his mind, borne from feelings that had lain dormant for six years.

_Toby, it appears you need me once again. I wonder what your naughty sister has gone and done this time._

* * *

**+0+**

* * *

Under the protective barrier of his blanket, the six-year old was facing a rather difficult decision. Scared as he still was, loud and persistent as the storm was, he couldn't stay in his cocoon of darkness anymore. He was starting to sweat and his tears had caused him to have difficulty breathing. His nose was now stopped-up. Even Lancelot looked as miserable as he felt.

He was going to have to come out from under the covers. As if realizing the magnitude of his decision, another clap of thunder rattled the window pane, making Toby whimper and squeeze his bear all the tighter. He would come out for a minute. That was all...just enough to breathe a little and then he'd go back.

With a little nod of his head and a sniffle, Toby decided that was what he would do. Taking a moment to push sticky, drying tears from his cheeks, he took hold of the blanket's edge. Licking his lips in nervousness, he closed his eyes. In one sudden motion, he jerked the covers down to chest level. Cool air hit his face and he inhaled, though he hiccupped a little as he did.

The downy covers now gone, he could hear the rain and the thunder more clearly. He kept his eyes closed though, afraid for one instant that he might open them and see a monster had crept in while he was hidden. But when nothing growled or grabbed him after a few seconds, slowly he opened his eyes again. Rain hit the window like a thousand tiny knuckles on the glass, but something else drew the boy's eye.

There was a large bird outside his window, with large eyes and beige-brown feathers. It watched him from a nearby tree limb, swayed with every movement of the wind through the trees. A ghost-like form in boughs green as could be.

For a brief moment, Toby felt fear jumped in his throat again, closing it up. The owl (as it looked like the bird in the Winnie-the Pooh books his mother had read to him when he was little), saw him watching. It opened its beak, hooting something at him. The sound was nearly covered up by the sound of the rain, but Toby heard it. It was an eerie sound.

Rubbing his eyes, curiosity and wonder replacing what fear remained, Toby slowly got out of bed. He took a step or two towards the window, but stopped at the last minute to get Lancelot. Then, with faithful bear companion in hand, he went to the window. A flash of lightening filled the sky just then, blinding Toby and startling him so badly he fell onto his bottom on the floor.

When he could open his eyes and looked outside again, the owl had moved. It perched just outside the window, on the bit of roof. Toby watched as the bird pecked at the window, large cold eyes staring at him. It pecked again and in an instant, Toby realized the bird must want in.

_He hates storms too_, Toby reasoned, standing up._ I don't blame him._

He loosened his grip on the teddy bear ever so slightly, and reached for the window latch. To push the window up would take more effort, but Toby wasn't dumb. He knew how to do it. He carefully put Lancelot down on his toy box, and then climbed on himself so that he could more easily reach the window. With effort, he grabbed the window pane and pushed it up. Damp wind and rain flew into the window and wet his face. He shuddered with the shock of it. A blur of motion and feathers came with it, flying over his head and into the room behind him.

With a whimper and a grunt of effort, Toby pushed down the window again. It squealed a little on old tracking. When the child turned, desiring to see this great creature that he'd valiantly saved from the storm, he saw no bird at all. A man stood in the middle of Toby's room; a tall man who was saying bad words underneath his breath as he shook the rain from his wild, white-blond hair and strange clothing.

Not knowing the man, wondering where the tawny owl had gone, Toby felt fear rising up again twice as strong as before. Snatching up Lancelot from beside him on the toy box, Toby clutched the bear to his chest.

"W-who are you?" He demanded of the strange man, voice quivering. "What are you doing in my r-room?"

* * *

**+0+**

* * *

Aggravation was not an emotion strange to the ruler of the vast Labyrinth. It was no stranger at present either, especially since Jareth was now nearly soaked to the bone from sitting on a branch in the middle of a bloody rainstorm waiting for a child to open a window for him. Irritation so dominated the Goblin King's disposition at the moment that he momentarily forgot the reason for his arrival at all and let a string of curses leave his lips as he shook the excess water from his hair and clothing.

"W-Who are you?" quivered a child's voice. "What are you doing in my r-room?"

The cursing stopped as Jareth turned to regard the child in question. The boy in front of him was truly the boy from the crystal, around age six or seven, though instead of ninja turtles and teddy bears, the boy sported beads of rain from his grand entrance through the window. A stab of pride filled the Goblin King's chest as he took in the sight of the child he'd not seen since infancy. Memories of dancing about his throne room with the boy rose in his mind.

A smile, rare and genuine, graced the monarch's lips.

"You've grown," Jareth said, turning fully and taking a step in Toby's direction. "It's good to see you again, my boy."

Toby's eyes widened as Jareth approached and a look of panic took over his face. Glancing around frantically, the boy's eyes came to rest on a nearby, foam-covered baseball bat. No doubt acting on instinct, Toby lunged for the bat and grabbed it. Brandishing it fearfully, Toby turned on him.

"G-get back!" he cried, looking towards the door. "I'll call Daddy. Just stay away!"

Unable to help himself, Jareth threw back his head and laughed. The boy looked crestfallen a moment, but stood his ground. The king of the Labyrinth tilted his head to the side and regarded the boy with amusement.

"What do you expect to do with that, Toby?" he asked kindly, but did not approach any further. "Don't tell me you've forgotten your dear Uncle Jareth..."

"You're not my uncle." The boy quipped, but lowered the bat. "How d'you know my name?"

"I know a lot more than you think. I know your sister, Sarah, in fact." A stab of something painful flitted through Jareth's mind. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "And how, might I ask, is dear sister lately? Still about, performing in plays is she?"

At the mention of his sister, something in Toby's demeanor changed. The bat lowered entirely and his reply was much nicer than before.

"She's far away. Someplace called 'New York'." Toby answered, looking at the floor. "I miss her."

"Is she now?"

The boy nodded, and then looked towards the window. The Goblin King's eyes followed Toby's line of sight. The worn, faded teddy bear from the crystal lay on its side on the floor in front of the window. A child sighed, dropping the baseball bat and walking over to pick up his teddy. Little arms squeezed the bear tightly.

"Storms are scary." The boy said. "Sarah used to sing when I was scared, but she's gone now. Mommy and Dad say I'm too old to have songs."

"Nonsense," Jareth stated. "No one is too old for songs. Would you like me to sing one for you, my boy?"

Toby looked up from the floor, his brow scrunched up. "Um, okay. Will the storm go away?"

"It will." The monarch reassured the child. "Now into bed with you...take your teddy."

Jareth waited until the boy had gotten comfortable before settling on the window seat. The window seat was a bit damp, but then, so was he. He paid the moisture no mind as he leaned comfortably against the wall and lay one leg across the seat. The Goblin King stared out the window, pondering the storm outside, and remembered a time long ago when something similar raged inside his own heart. Thus, remembering, he began to sing:

"_...There's such a sad love_

_Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel_

_Opened and closed within your eyes_

_I'll place the sky within your eyes..."_

_._

"_...There's such a fooled heart,_

_Beating so fast, in search of new dreams,_

_A love that will last within your heart_

_I'll place the moon within your heart..."_

_._

"_...I'll paint you mornings of gold_

_I'll spin you Valentine evenings_

_Though we're strangers 'til now_

_We're choosing the path between the stars_

_I'll lay my love between the stars..."_

_._

"_...As the pain sweeps through_

_It makes no sense to you_

_Every thrill is gone_

_Wasn't too much fun at all_

_But I'll be there for you_

_As the world falls down_

_As the world falls down..."_

Outside the window, the storm seemed to worsen momentarily. The wind rattled the windows. Claps of thunder banged and roared, causing the little boy to flinch and jump. Flashes of lightening lit the room like daylight, but Jareth continued to sing and Toby quieted. The song was sad, but beautiful, and as the song came to an end, the storm just stopped.

The roaring silenced, the flashing retreated, and though the rain still fell, it was softer...like the pitter-pat of tiny feet on the glass. Closing his eyes momentarily, Jareth let the effects of the song leave him before he chanced a glance at the boy on the bed.

Memories, all of them tainted with sadness and regret, threatened to overtake him. He managed to resist the emotions with effort, before finally looking over at his charge. Toby was sitting quite still, half-covered with his blankets.

One of the boy's hands worried the leg of his bear, but there was no look of sadness upon his face. The boy was smiling – a tiny smile – as if he knew something that Jareth did not.

"Sarah sings that song." The boy said, looking shy. "Did you teach it to her?"

Toby couldn't know it, but the words pierced Jareth's chest like a lance.


End file.
